Sunday, January 11, 2015

Why I Want to Kill Cancer:

Why I Want to Kill Cancer:

In Geoffrey Chaucer’s “The Pardoner’s Tale,” three arrogant
young men set out to kill Death.They have lost too many friends to Death and want to seek revenge.The young men, however, become
sidetracked by greed and deceit. They turn on each other, abandoning their
search for Death.I wish I could
kill cancer.I would not be
distracted by greed or deceit.The
fiend would writhe as I strangled it. I would show no mercy to an evil killer
who has taken people I love, murdering them in a slow and prolonged
torture.

My sweet mother was never officially diagnosed with cancer.
By the time the growths developed, she was elderly and suffered from multiple
health problems.Even the doctors
agreed that any radical treatment would be futile for her; however, they saw
the growing tumors.Cancer had no
mercy.The demon invaded her body,
searing and scarring her very being. My beautiful mother withered away to
almost nothing.She had been
elderly but hale.Once the demon
overtook her, she became too fragile, destroyed from within by an enemy she
couldn’t fight.As the
end neared, I lay on the sofa by her bed, listening to her call for Jesus,
Mary, and Joseph to take her, to have mercy. On the anniversary of my father’s
death, my beloved mother told me that I had to let her go. She died only a few
days later, and I wondered for months if I could have saved her.Alas, I couldn’t.Nothing could. She was fighting an
enemy more powerful than either of us and ten times more vicious.Maybe some people survive this vicious
illness but not many.

Now, I hate cancer anew because of what it did to my sweet
cousin Trudy.Trudy died this
Christmas. She was so like my mother, a really sweet angel. As a nurse, she
played an important role in helping me with my mother. She always looked out
for others, caring about their feelings and well-being. No one was more
beautiful or more vibrant. Less than two years ago, she was diagnosed with Multiple
Mylenoma.After undergoing
chemotherapy, she was healthy for several months, but her aggressive cancer
soon returned. This time, chemotherapy took her hair, her healthy weight, and
exhausted her.The treatments were
almost as deadly as the illness, but they couldn’t stem the cancer.The demon had invaded her body, filling
her with deadly fluid and wrapping around her organs like a coiling snake.Like my mother, she cried out in pain.
Like my mother, she sought solace in faith.No one was sweeter, kinder, or more loved. When she died,
people came from around the world to tell her goodbye. Many traversed states
and continents. Few people were so loved, and once again, I find myself hating
cancer.The thief has robbed my
loved ones and me of one so dear.

I hate cancer.I wish it dead. It has taken too many. Let us raise an army against
it.

In Geoffrey Chaucer’s “The Pardoner’s Tale,” three arrogant
young men set out to kill Death.They have lost too many friends to Death and want to seek revenge.The young men, however, become
sidetracked by greed and deceit. They turn on each other, abandoning their
search for Death.I wish I could
kill cancer.I would not be
distracted by greed or deceit.The
fiend would writhe as I strangled it. I would show no mercy to an evil killer
who has taken people I love, murdering them in a slow and prolonged
torture.

My sweet mother was never officially diagnosed with cancer.
By the time the growths developed, she was elderly and suffered from multiple
health problems.Even the doctors
agreed that any radical treatment would be futile for her; however, they saw
the growing tumors.Cancer had no
mercy.The demon invaded her body,
searing and scarring her very being. My beautiful mother withered away to
almost nothing.She had been
elderly but hale.Once the demon
overtook her, she became too fragile, destroyed from within by an enemy she
couldn’t fight.As the
end neared, I lay on the sofa by her bed, listening to her call for Jesus,
Mary, and Joseph to take her, to have mercy. On the anniversary of my father’s
death, my beloved mother told me that I had to let her go. She died only a few
days later, and I wondered for months if I could have saved her.Alas, I couldn’t.Nothing could. She was fighting an
enemy more powerful than either of us and ten times more vicious.Maybe some people survive this vicious
illness but not many.

Now, I hate cancer anew because of what it did to my sweet
cousin Trudy.Trudy died this
Christmas. She was so like my mother, a really sweet angel. As a nurse, she
played an important role in helping me with my mother. She always looked out
for others, caring about their feelings and well-being. No one was more
beautiful or more vibrant. Less than two years ago, she was diagnosed with Multiple
Mylenoma.After undergoing
chemotherapy, she was healthy for several months, but her aggressive cancer
soon returned. This time, chemotherapy took her hair, her healthy weight, and
exhausted her.The treatments were
almost as deadly as the illness, but they couldn’t stem the cancer.The demon had invaded her body, filling
her with deadly fluid and wrapping around her organs like a coiling snake.Like my mother, she cried out in pain.
Like my mother, she sought solace in faith.No one was sweeter, kinder, or more loved. When she died,
people came from around the world to tell her goodbye. Many traversed states
and continents. Few people were so loved, and once again, I find myself hating
cancer.The thief has robbed my
loved ones and me of one so dear.

I hate cancer.I wish it dead. It has taken too many. Let us raise an army against
it.

1 comment:

Viola, my condolences for your multiple losses to an invisible enemy. Please take heart these kind souls are now lovingly watching over you, free of their fear and pain, no longer a slave to these demon. Perhaps one day we will forever defeat this enemy of so many.